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Marry her
Last Updated:
2025-07-21 03:33:38
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The billionaire's trifling romance:Her revenge Crossing the line
Everything was slipping out of my grasp, unraveling faster than I could hold it together. My emotions were unraveling faster than I could hold them together.That Saturday afternoon, it started with one message — small, harmless. And somehow, that was all it took for everything to start slipping. A message from Jimmie. Nothing dramatic, just something short:> Can we go over the new contract drafts tonight? My place might be quieter.I stared at it for a long minute, my thumb hovering over the screen.There was nothing wrong with the request. We’d worked late plenty of times before. Yet something about the invitation unsettled me — not because I feared him, but because I didn’t.After that night at the office, we carried on as if nothing had happened, but I noticed it — the long stares, the occasional eye contact, the thumping in my chest, the tension that rose within me whenever he passed behind me.My heart quickened. I should have said no — but instead, I typed:> Sure. Text me the
The billionaire's trifling romance:Her revenge I'm a married woman
The next day, Ethan went to work with me. According to him, he was “watching me so I wouldn’t go astray.”He watched like a hawk. I tried my best to avoid Jimmie.When it was time for lunch, Ethan went down to the cafeteria while I remained at my desk, buried deep in work, hoping I wouldn’t find him in the crowd — or even think about him for a minute.But my mind betrayed me.I stood up to go to the bathroom to wash my face. Maybe that would help clear my head a little.I washed my face and was in the process of drying it when I heard the bathroom door open.It was Jimmie.“Mr... Mr. Hendrix, what are you doing? This is the ladies’ room.”“This is my company, and I’ll do whatever I want.”“Mr.—”“Why have you been avoiding me?”He took a slow step forward, hesitation flickering in his eyes — as if even he wasn’t sure what he’d do next.I moved backward until my back hit the wall.“I... I didn’t. What are you talking about?!”“What is this?!”He asked, looking down at my neck. What is
The billionaire's trifling romance:Her revenge This is bad
After that night, things between us changed — subtly, but irrevocably.Our conversations grew easier — the silences, less tense.I began laughing again, sometimes even surprising myself with the sound.We became friends again. I still hadn’t told him I remembered our childhood, but this was nice too.Jimmie listened when I spoke about my confusion — about how some mornings I woke feeling as if I’d lived two lives and didn’t know which was real.He never interrupted, never told me what to feel.He just sat quietly, fingers laced, eyes full of something I couldn’t decipher.Once, after I’d been talking for nearly an hour, I asked,“Why do you care so much, Jimmie? You barely know me.”He hesitated, then said softly,“Maybe I knew you once.”The room went still.He’s talking about our childhood, right?!I tried to smile, but my heart stumbled.“That’s not funny.”“It wasn’t a joke.”---On Friday, I found a cinnamon flower on my desk — no note.I stared at it for a long time, tracing the
The billionaire's trifling romance:Her revenge I crave this man's touch
"You've made a lot of improvement, and that's a good thing.""Thank you, Doc.""I know you're still curious to know about the four years that you skipped, but just give it time, okay? Slowly, your brain will bring up these fragments and connect them to your present.""I don't know again, Doc... all my life, I thought I didn't have a mother. I thought I was an orphan who got lucky and got married into Ethan's family. Remembering all this now still confuses me... a lot.And I still can't remember what exactly happened inside that fire... I remember being under the table with Mum... then she told me to run. But I don't remember how I got outside at all. The next thing I knew, I was outside with Jimmie.""Jimmie?!""Yeah... he was my childhood best friend. I met him again as an adult, and I feel drawn to him in a way... I don't know if it's because he's the only one I remember from my childhood or if I met him again as an adult during those four years I missed. Also, I remember him callin
The billionaire's trifling romance:Her revenge Waiting for him
Back at C&J Enterprises, Jimmie sat alone in his office, staring out the window as the city moved below him. When he got to the office and couldn’t find Sam, he hadn’t been able to focus all day.Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face — that same look of confusion and wonder that used to belong to the little girl with scraped knees and jasmine in her hair.I didn’t realize this when we were married, but now that she doesn’t remember me, she looks so much like Jane.He remembered the night she’d lost everything — the accident that had taken her mother and his mother. He’d found her huddled under the porch steps, shivering, clutching a broken bunny.He’d been a child himself, but he’d made a promise that night: “I’ll take care of you, Jane.”And he had. For a little while — until his grandfather sent him abroad.He was restless… ever since Ethan told him she couldn’t come because she was feeling a little under the weather, he couldn’t concentrate.Will she be fine on her own?--
The billionaire's trifling romance:Her revenge Past echoes
The next morning, sunlight slanted through the blinds of our apartment, spilling across the bed in stripes of gold. I hadn’t slept well. My dreams were tangled — a storm, fire, a child’s cry, a man’s voice whispering my name.When I woke up, my pillow was damp. I couldn’t tell if it was from rain in my dream or tears I didn’t remember shedding.I had this kind of dream every other night, so it was okay. But last night’s dream felt different. When I woke up, I didn’t have the strength to even leave the bed for a while.I told Ethan I wouldn’t be able to go to work today because I wasn’t feeling too well. He didn’t like that, but he didn’t force me to go. He just walked out angrily without even asking if I could stay home alone.The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of the fridge and the ticking wall clock.I stood by the counter, pouring coffee into a mug when the smell hit me.Not coffee — not exactly.It was something else.Sweet, faint, like jasmine.My mother’s perfume.
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